Twins

In the emergency room monitors beeped, doctors rushed, and a mother screamed. The din continued to escalate, a constant barrage of noise until all seemed to go silent as the sound of a wail resounded throughout the room.

A child was born. A mother cooed. Nurses smiled. But then the noise resumed, along with painful contractions and soon a second wail rent the air. All fell into quiet once again, listening to the babies squeals. But this time all stayed that way, a mother didn’t coo, doctors didn’t smile. Time stayed paused like this, until a steady march could be heard from the outer corridor.

The mother then broke her silence and wept openly, crying out. The doctors stood stone faced, prepared for what was to come, and the nurses merely stared at the two newborns with utter sadness. Knowledge of the difficult life ahead of them was something everyone in the room possessed.

Then the door opened and a man walked in, wearing a pitch coloured suit and crimson tie that revealed his objective. Without a word he strode over, grabbed the two screeching babes and returned from whence he came. The mothers weeping turned to screams for her children, her longing for them unable to be restrained. Doctors scrambled, sedatives were injected and soon her screams turned to mumbles, then quiet.

And the man kept walking, two babies in his arms. A determined air about him and a death sentence between his hands. He now owned the word every parent dreads, twins.